Airplanes
by Blazerona
Summary: Tails is struggling with a final project for a college class. This isn't really the hedgehog's forte, but he agrees to help his best friend all he can. What will unfold from what seems to be a small research assignment?


Be it coincidence or instinct, he always seemed to have a knack for timing everything perfectly. That time can be perfectly right or perfectly wrong depending on whom you ask. If one were to ask the many citizens of Station Square what they thought, they would say that the arrival of the famous, blue hedgehog was just what they needed. However, if one asked a certain mad scientist bent on gaining power through outrageous acts of robotic terrorism, he would grumble to himself about how that blue pincushion couldn't have timed things any worse. And that was exactly the case when Sonic the Hedgehog hurled his curled form into a towering, mechanical beast as one final blow. The blue hero rebounded off of it and skidded to halt just as he hit the tarnished asphalt of the city streets. Dr. Eggman's newest metal creation cracked and fizzled as it began to fall backwards, which took a long time since it was 7 meters in height. Sonic amused himself by counting the seconds that passed before the satisfying CRASH that followed. He then dusted his hands with plumes of dirt puffing off of them. He liked to think of it as his clever way of saying "The End" after a long fight. But of course, the real ending happens when the egg-shaped man in his Egg Mobile says his final threats.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" he bellowed from his hovercraft. It towered far above the ruins of Sonic's opponent. The hedgehog cupped one hand next to his mouth and raised his voice to reply, "I do! How do ya think I managed to trash your new toy?" Eggman's reaction to this was a grunt of disappointment and a turn of the joysticks to direct his vehicle away from the scene. As a last ditch effort to look on top, he yelled back to Sonic, "I get closer every day, Sonic! One day, I'll finally get you!" His voice grew fainter while he flew into the expanse of the late morning. The only thing obstructing the clear, blue sky was the clouds of smoke from his tarnished creation. Sonic felt déjà vu after everything was said and done. Heck, he felt it the entire time he was battling. He's done the hero thing so many times that he was starting to forget all the crazy names the doctor has come up with over the years.

"What was this robot called again?" Sonic thought to himself out loud, "Egg Titan? Colossal Egg? Eggs-terminator?" He walked toward the fallen robot and scanned over its dysfunctional appearance. He stopped near its large, dome-like head and looked into its unlit eyes.

"Well, whatever you were called," he joked, "I now deem you "scrap metal". Congrats." He held back his amusement of his own remark and looked around to see if anyone had the privilege to hear it. The once bustling blocks of Station Square were empty and barren of life. He realized that this part of the city was most likely evacuated when the battle began. He took another glance at the robot before turning back to surroundings.

"Better get outta here before the paparazzi shows up," he muttered in a low voice. He was able to sprint out of the scene at top speeds, despite having been in a tiring struggle just moments before. The smoldering heap of inactive metal was the only evidence that Sonic was ever there in the first place. The clicking of Sonic's red shoes echoed against the walls of concrete jungle while he made his stylish exit. The blue hedgehog darted around and slid under the cars that were haphazardly parked in the middle of the streets. He made it a goal to escape from the city as quickly as possible. This was mostly because of the news helicopters that he knew would be tailing him. In a way, Sonic did like the attention that came with all the microphones and cameras. Only problem with the interviews was that they didn't seem to end and the impatient speedster wasn't one for staying in one place. And today, he couldn't afford to stay in one place. So after every public battle, he makes an effort to dodge the media altogether. Besides, he had other plans before Eggman decided to throw a wrench in them. The doctor's failed attempt at trying to best the hedgehog only served to be a detour. A reasonable distance ahead, Sonic caught sight of what appeared to be another detour. Scads of police cars, traffic cones, and layered ribbons of police tape closed off an entire intersection.

"I'm behind schedule already," he mumbled, still advancing toward the fray of flashing lights. Yet, Sonic has claimed too many times that nothing can slow him down. He wasn't about to make this the thing that finally does it. Maintaining his momentum, he planted his left foot to the ground and sprung up into the air. He was moving so fast that he soared over the gyrating lights and numerous officers. Sonic would have seen their awestruck faces if they weren't all wearing helmets. The moment one of his shoes hit the ground, he dashed off again, leaving a gust of wind in his wake. There was no giant robot or crowd of people that made him miss a beat that day. The hedgehog sped out of there in the nick of time, just like he always did. He has once again timed everything flawlessly. The citizens continue to benefit from this gift and Dr. Eggman continues to suffer because of it. That wasn't going to change.

Yet, there was one more opinion about how timely Sonic's actions were, and that was the opinion of a two-tailed kitsune who lived a short distance from Station Square.

To the south of the metropolis was the swampland known as Mystic Ruins. Close to the train station was a precipice that overlooked the sea. On top of that precipice was a humble workshop, constantly humming with the sound of its churning water wheel. The worn stone porch led up to a wooden door. Normally, there would be the buzzing, whirring, and clicking of tools heard through it. On this particular morning, no such noises were present. Other than the spinning gears that powered the building, all was completely silent. At first glance, one would assume that no one was home. Behind closed doors was a different story.

On the uppermost floor was a bedroom, but not of any ordinary person. There were two parts to this bedroom. The lower half of the room contained pieces of furniture packed with trinkets and documents, each packed with knowledge. A desk was up against the wall where there was a wide window. Its placement seemed to be on purpose since it had a scenic few of an ocean horizon. Strewn on the desk were many blueprints and measuring tools. A pencil holder held many instruments that were running out of ink and lead from use. Hovering over all of it was a swing-arm desk lamp. Though the desk was filled with clutter, the mess was organized in groups. All of the papers were in an unkempt pile to the left while the tools were placed to the right. Those weren't the only objects that were organized. To the desk's right was a bookshelf full of not only books, but multiple mechanical contraptions as well. The literature ranged from Aeronautical Engineering to Thermodynamics and everything in between. A few of them were adorned with neon sticker bookmarks sticking out from in between the pages. Whatever gadgets the owner has decided to place on the shelf, they were either used for display or as book supports. To the left of the desk opposite from the bookshelf was a dresser. That also had some devices of unknown purpose on the top of it. Accompanying those inventions were also model airplane figurines and a pamphlet about a college named "Central Valley Institute of Robotics". On the floor between all of the furnishings laid a green rug in the shape of a circle. The only thing that was on top of it was the black desk chair that was pushed into the desk's underside. This side of the room was smaller than the other side, but that was only because a small bathroom was built in the corner of the room closest to the door that led to a porch.

The other half of the room was split from the rest because of the staircase that led to the floor below. The staircase didn't split the room entirely in half, however, leaving a walkway to the raised platform where his bed was on top of. There was a ladder bound to the wall so the bed could be accessed. Save for the entrance, the rest of the platform was blocked by wooden stair rails. The ceiling space in the sleeping area was a dome. A round window was at its apex. Lying down in the bed would provide a perfect view of the sky above. The bed itself was a bluish-gray, most likely faded from a wash too many. The bed was the sloppiest thing about the room, not having been made. At the foot of the bed, near the edge of the platform, was a hamper full of white socks and gloves. To the right of the bed's headboard was a nightstand. This wasn't scant of personal possessions either. Unlike the other pieces of furniture, this only had three objects on it: a coaster, an alarm clock, and a single picture frame.

The owner of the workshop was, indeed, inside the house. Yet, he was nowhere to be found in his bedroom. The aforementioned alarm clock showed the time "10:07AM." That time was considerably later than when the fox preferred to wake up. Downstairs did not prove to be any more occupied. The kitchen was pristine, as if prepared for anyone to make a home cooked meal at a moment's notice. The granite countertops were bare besides the common kitchen implements in their respective holders. The electric oven blinked the same time as the alarm clock from upstairs. One of the counters jutted out perpendicular from the wall, serving as a guide to the split between kitchen tile and carpet. Everywhere the carpet was present was the living room. A sofa, an entertainment center, and a modest television was all there was. The only other item was a remote on the sofa. Behind the couch was the staircase leading to the second floor.

Through the kitchen was another wooden door. That led to, in the homeowner's opinion, the best part of the workshop, that room being the garage. The floors were lined with metal diamond plates. This room proved to be the most used and therefore most occupied. The workbench, drafting table, shelves, cabinets, and even the rolling carts were all filled with tools and parts of all kinds. Parked in the middle of the large garage was a red biplane. This room showed to be a stark contrast to the rest of the house. Every invention was either a work in progress or a completed project on display. The fluorescent ceiling lights were all on. Almost every piece of metal refracted some of the light, especially the flooring and the smooth finish of the plane's red paint. This didn't appear to be of any bother to the twin-tailed fox that was seated in front of the tall drafting table. Little did the young kit know that his day wasn't going to end up as planned.

Arriving quicker than the resting flickies could realize, a familiar cobalt form burst from the thick jungle brush, causing the feathery fauna to flee to the sky from all directions. Not giving them a second glance, he jogged up past the neighboring train station, up the incline, and towards the rustic building. He briefly overheard the intercom from the station say "The train headed for Station Square will be departing soon." Sonic breathed out a brief scoff. Without the train, the run over was bumpy and full of a lot of occluding foliage. Since he was in a hurry, he decided that he could bear going a little slower to avoid getting annoyingly smacked in the face with branches. It wasn't a joy-run, but it amounted to being faster than the train. That was all that mattered in retrospect. It wasn't long until the hedgehog found himself at the base of the familiar building, panting a little. He had no break in between fighting Eggman's newest gizmo and bolting all the way to his current location. He paid his own weariness little mind since there was something else occupying it.

 _Ah, I can't believe I did this! Stupid Eggman!_ he mused to himself with thorough dissatisfaction with his current situation. He skipped up the stone steps and confronted the dark timber door. He shook his thoughts away and exhaled sharply through his nose, regaining focus. _No time for that, hedgieboy. You're here now, right?_ the hedgehog self-advised. He lifted his right hand and rapped the door three times. The knocks resounded softly through the clearing around him. Sonic straightened up his posture and ran a hand through his spines. He didn't know how he looked and he was hoping the doctor didn't give him an accidental haircut without him noticing. His concern was immediately put to rest upon not finding anything out of place. His heels were bouncing before Sonic even noticed that he waited for more than five seconds. He was expecting the door to open at any moment. Only a moment more and one of his eye ridges lowered in confusion. He took a peek at the sun's position. It was high in the sky, meaning that it was approaching noon. Even more bewildered by this, Sonic knocked again. He gave a longer pause for this one. He idly dug his pinkie finger in his left ear. _Weird. I could've sworn it was today._ Sonic thought and knocked again, thinking that the third time would be the charm. The hedgehog pushed on the door out of curiosity. To his surprise, it was open. It creaked quietly as it swung inwards. Interest sparking, he leaned his head in to observe a lit garage that was completely absent of its usual racket.

"Uuuhhh…" Sonic started hesitantly, "Tails?"

Instead of his friend, he was greeted with stillness. His internal debate of whether or not he should walk in took two seconds. His inner dialogue went like this: "Should I go in? Oh wait, I kind of live here. Duh." He took a bold step on the metal flooring and took care to shut the door behind him. It didn't take too long for his gaze to settle on an orange form at a drafting table. His face was hidden in a large book on organic chemistry, but the iconic two tails sticking out in behind the chair was enough evidence for Sonic. This was, indeed, Tails. Sonic took notice of the fact that he didn't respond. He needed to only dwell on it for a few more seconds before he felt a pang of guilt.

"Hey, buddy," he started softly, "Sorry I'm late." He walked towards the drafting table and stopped right next to the fox. His demeanor changed to a joking one as he transitioned to the next sentence. "Eggman decided to throw a party in Station Square and I just _had_ to go." He searched for a reaction from his friend, only to be reintroduced to silence. The hedgehog clenched his teeth and hissed awkwardly. He exhaled through his nose and shifted his attitude back to a more serious one, "Look, I know you're probably angry. I can't just leave the guy to wreck the place, though. I'm not too happy about it either."

The weight of the atmosphere only got heavier as his friend continued to show no signs that he was listening. Defeated, he placed a hand on his smaller, yellow back and gave it a friendly shake. "What say we get started? I think you could use some time away from that book." As he gently shook him, the large textbook suddenly fell over and hit the table surface with a THUNK! His hand recoiled from being startled. Now with the book out of the way, Sonic was able to see his friend's face. It took all he had to not throw his head back and send booming laughter throughout the room. Instead, he just covered his mouth as the occasional snicker slipped out.

Of course Tails wasn't responding. That was probably because he was dead asleep.

Sonic's timing was always something of intrigue to the cub. Sometimes he felt just the way the citizens of Station Square did, he was thankful that he was there right when he needed him. When the blue hero shook him awake that morning, smiling down at him with bright emerald eyes, he suddenly felt like how the infamous doctor would. Unlike him, however, Tails knew that Sonic's timing wasn't the worst thing ever.

But _man,_ was it _sure_ annoying when that snarky smile was aimed at _him._

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 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **Been a while, huh? I made something for my followers to read! All 3 of you!**

 **Here's a Sonic fan fiction I began for no reason. I'm a bit rusty when it comes to writing in book form, since all I do is write scripts nowadays. I have the feeling that this should be longer, but EH TOO LATE NOW. I decided to do this short story just to get my creative juices flowing again. Make sure you tell me what you think and what I can improve upon or if there's any typos. I'm mostly posting this for feedback anyway lol. Tell me if you want more of this, too! I'll write the next chapter anyway, but it would be nice to know.**

 **Why is it called "Airplanes"? BECAUSE TAILS PILOTS AN AIRPLANE YOU IDIOT POOPFACE no that's not the reason ahaha**

 **I'm still REALLY unfamiliar with fanfiction. Thank you for being patient with me.**


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